


In Eventide

by yeaka



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Animal Traits, Blow Jobs, Comeplay, Dry Humping, M/M, Oral Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-25 02:38:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10755021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: At least this time when Link wakes up, he isn’t alone for long.





	1. Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Rating is for future chapters which will include sex. This is loosely based on Eventide Island, but I’m adding a cave etc...
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Legend of Zelda or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He comes to on a sandy beach, with water gently lapping at his heels. Head still in a fog, Link blinks against the blaring sun and tries to lift himself up on his arms—it takes two attempts. His movements are sluggish, but when he does a quick check of his naked body, the only wounds are old and faded scars. He presses a hand against his forehead, and it pounds angrily against him, but it doesn’t truly _hurt_. Something’s just _wrong_ , and he can’t put his finger on it.

Maybe midday, the beach is a pleasant temperature, the sand hot beneath his thighs but the water cool around his ankles. He has no protection— _nothing_ —and grabs instinctively for a weapon, but his back’s as plain as his front. Darting to his ears, he at least finds his earrings. His hair’s still tied back. It’s a small comfort, though they’ll do him no good against either enemies or the elements. At least he can’t hear any telltale squeals from monsters, but that doesn’t mean they’re not there.

Link rises unsteadily to his feet. He sinks slightly into the sand with his weight, but a few steps up the shore and he’s on more stable ground. He feels like he should have somewhere to go. Some mission. He’s a knight of—

But that’s all he knows. And even then, something whispers in the back of his mind: _not anymore_. 

Lifting a hand against the glare of the sun, Link makes his way towards the forest up the hill to start his foraging.

* * *

It’s a small island, from what the hill told him, and he can see nothing else across the sea or ocean or whatever the blanket of blue all around him is, but he didn’t make it to the highest point yet. He doesn’t want to waste half the day climbing when he still doesn’t have enough supplies. He found a few ripe bananas and a stray branch or two that’ll serve as rudimentary weapons, but it’s not _enough_. Never mind that he’s still entirely naked. At least there doesn’t seem to be anyone—or anything—else on the island to witness any shame.

Well, that isn’t really an _at least_. Being wholly _alone_ doesn’t pain him like he thinks it probably should. There’s _something_ missing, he knows that, but a slew of other Hylians wouldn’t fix it. Link sits by the shore again, staring out at the endless horizon, while he sets into a familiar Hylian Shroom and thinks. 

A rustle from the trees behind him startles him to movement. In a heartbeat, Link’s tosses the half-eaten husk aside, turned and crouched onto all fours—there’s nothing to hide behind, but he can at least minimize his height. The beach is clear, the nearest palm tree too far away, and up a short ways the sand dies into grass and rocks and into a slope full of dense foliage. It could be a bird, but just in case, Link’s tense. He stays on hands and knees, ready to drop flat against the sand if need be—his skin and hair isn’t _that_ different a colour, and he can roll into the coverage of water if need be. The rustle doesn’t repeat itself, but he waits anyway.

Then, out of nowhere, water cascades all around him. Link barely has time to register the shock before something’s on him: a huge, crushing weight bears down on his back, and a streak of red blurs to either side of him. Massive hands flatten down either of his, his entire body wholly trapped beneath something twice his size. He can feel a slick, smooth surface gluing to his skin with the water, all the way from the back of his head to the slope of his ass. Feeling horribly helpless, Link does a quick take of what he can see—the hands over his are impossibly large, crimson, and tipped in yellow nails that are pointed like claws. Link’s heart skips a bead, and the head of the creature hooks over his shoulder, completing his cage. It growls into his ear, “How _dare_ you try to seduce me out of hiding!”

Shock sets in. It’s quickly broken when the creature presses down, forcing Link’s chest to brush the hot sand. He turns his cheek just in case he’s flatted into it. He can’t help a small whimper at the unbearable pressure, but he _tries_ to stay strong. He’s lost enough dignity today. The monster seethes, “Of all the horrid things the enemy has done, this is the lowest! To send a beautiful creature to my shore and have it kneel down and present its rear to me... ridiculous! Did you really think you would disarm me merely by spreading your creamy thighs and showing off an albeit scrumptious bottom like that? You might have a perfectly round, delectably sculpted pair of cheeks, but just because you flexed them enough to show off your tight, pink ring of muscles, the smallest hole I’ve ever seen clenched and ready to—” The monster dies off in a tiny moan, and it occurs to Link that the surface just behind his rear isn’t as smooth as the rest. He can feel something shifting against him, and it does nothing to lessen his growing blush. Even though his memories are still trapped behind a fog, he’s sure he’s never been this embarrassed in his life. He decides that if he’s going to die on this mysterious island, it’s not going to be right after hearing about his own ass in great detail. 

With a roar and the summoning of every last scrap of strength, Link surges up against the beast, tossing it off him long enough for him to roll out from under it. He’s barely made it onto his back when the creature’s on him again, pinning his wrists instantly to the sand and weighing down his legs. Now Link can meet the accusing stare directly, although it quickly wanes on eye contact.

They hold each other’s gaze for a few lingering seconds, and then Link diverts to take in the rest of the creature that’s caught him.

Despite what he’d first expected, the man doesn’t have a cruel face. It is a _man_ , he thinks, though not a Hylian—another race on the tip of his tongue, a word he can’t quite recall. The man’s head isn’t all that different, except where a Hylian’s nose would be, a red crest rises out and slicks back, devoid of any hair but decorated with small, pink dots on either side of the long points of the crest. A fin hangs down either side of the man’s face, hitting the sand just short of Link’s cheeks. The man’s face is white, his eyes yellow within black circles, his teeth pointed, but he doesn’t wear the hungry grin Link might have expected. He can’t see the rest of the man’s body from where he is, attached via a long, slender neck, but he can _feel_ just how muscled it is. The man’s chest is much broader than his, the man’s torso much longer. Blinking down at him, the man slowly mumbles, “You... you don’t look like the enemy at all...”

Link can only distantly remember what _the enemy_ even is. But he’s sure they didn’t have creatures like this, so ethereal and beautiful. Then he remembers the man calling him the same word, and his cheeks heat even more. He becomes painfully aware of the man’s crotch pressing against his own. He can’t quite make sense of the outlines he feels. The man seems to come to an understanding, then rips away.

Pulling back in one quick movement, the man releases Link entirely. He hunches back by the water, still towering high, and splutters, “My apologies! I am so sorry! I beg forgiveness!” His hands lift to his face, and he looks genuinely horrified, spouting, “I never meant to ogle you so, but I’ve met no friendly forces on my journey, and I was sure you were a monster come to seduce me out of the sea! I’ve swum a long way from the rock I first woke on, one I was sure I would not escape with how few supplies I found on the way and how many monsters circled it, but I just _knew_ I had to come here, and I’ve been dodging evils ever since! But you, I... I should’ve known one so fair could not possibly be of the enemy. Forgive me.” He bends forward suddenly, hands to the sand, bowing, while Link’s still busy reeling. It takes Link a few seconds to even sit up again. 

As the man rises, he murmurs almost sullenly, “You must forgive me. I... I do not know why I am here. I do not even know what _you_ are, though I’m sure I should... I would introduce myself properly, but all I can say for certain is my name. I am Sidon, and I swear by whatever it is I hold most dear, I will not accost you again.”

 _Sidon_. Link plays the word over in his head. It feels strangely _right_ to think, almost to say. Sidon’s story is a familiar one, and Link can understand the caution. Remembering the stir he first heard in the forest, he looks back, but nothing’s moved, and he dismisses it as a bird. At least he feels less vulnerable, now that he’s not _alone_ , though they still have much to establish. If nothing else, Sidon could be a weapon in himself, between his size, sharp teeth, and claws. But he looks, now facing Link in the soft glow of the sun, like a _gentle_ sort of person, despite it all. 

Link nods his forgiveness, and Sidon seems to understand. He slumps with relief. The movement puts his gaze level with Link’s crotch, and he jerks back up a second later, flushed across his pale cheeks. Link feels the same way. Deliberately averting his eyes, Sidon coughs and notes, “I believe your kind is supposed to have some sort of covering; your parts don’t hide themselves like mine. One of our first tasks on what I presume to be an island in similar circumstances to my own, given your sparse coverage, must be to find you some clothes.” Though Sidon isn’t looking, Link nods. 

Then he realizes how quickly Sidon said _our_ , and something warms in Link’s chest; he isn’t alone anymore. He hardly ever was. That rights things, and he lets out his own breath of relief. It’s quickly followed by a drop of water squarely on his nose.

A sprinkling follows, then a downpour, before Link’s managed to establish anything else. He’s cold in a heartbeat, the clouds converging in to block out the sun as it sinks, and Link reaches out for Sidon’s hand. Sidon takes it, looking curiously down, and Link pulls Sidon up towards the hill.

* * *

Link’s found a little cave in the side of the island’s ‘mountain’—a word that doesn’t feel quite right, given that he’s somehow sure he’s scaled things ten times as large in his time. The cave is little more than a reservoir beneath a particularly long outcrop of rocks, but it works to keep them from the rain. The shower’s quickly become a storm, and lighting thrashes at the horizon, making Link inexplicably glad to have pulled Sidon from the water, all though a clearly aquatic species must have some way around such threats. Link has no idea how Sidon’s people work. But at the moment, Link has little idea of _anything_.

The night’s become horribly cold, though he’d dragged grass and leaves into the cave earlier, knowing food and shelter would be his first order of business. He pulls Sidon closer to him, and Sidon wordlessly obeys, though his blush hasn’t receded at all. Link’s hasn’t either. Curling up on his bed of greenery, Link tugs Sidon’s arm right over his waist. It helps to face away from Sidon, so he doesn’t have to meet any curiosity or demands for explanation. He knows he’s being dreadfully inappropriate with a man he only just met but... huddling up to survive the cold seems like a basic need.

Sidon allows himself to be draped around Link’s body. He isn’t particularly warm, but he does block out some of the cold, and he seems to get warmer from Link’s touch the longer they’re pressed together. Link snuggles up to Sidon’s chest to heat what he can. He stops when he remembers Sidon’s early description of his rear, and he becomes hyper-aware of how much he’s just squirmed his ass against Sidon’s crotch. If he had a single other shred of decency, he’d wrench away. But he feels like he’s always been someone more practical than dignified, and he stays where he is, just deliberately still. He stares at the rock face through the pale starlight washed brighter through the dancing reflections of the rain. He can’t stop a sudden shiver, and Sidon’s arm tightens around him. 

It’s comforting. Strangely, wondrously _comforting_ , even though for all Link knows, Sidon’s going to eat him in his sleep. Sidon is oddly silent for someone who spoke so much earlier—perhaps he’s picked up on Link’s own aversion. It makes for a peaceful rest. Despite the obvious threat of lying with a stranger, Link lets his eyes close.

Then he feels something stir against his backside. At first he thinks he imagined it, but it comes again, and then something’s definitely _growing_ there. He glances over his shoulder, and Sidon hurriedly pushes away, shuffling back and bursting all over again, “I am sincerely sorry! It was hardly my intention, I assure you, to take advantage—it is only that you are so astonishingly gorgeous, and my body can’t seem to help itself from responding with interest! But I assure you—I will behave myself!” While he talks, Link’s eyes fall lower, to where Sidon’s body has changed itself entirely. Where he once had a completely seamless crotch, two long, thick shafts of extraordinary proportion have sprung out. They now jut straight up, straining and throbbing in the air, as pure white as the rest of his belly but tinged a faint pink at the tips. The mere sight of them makes Link’s own cock harden, though he feels tiny in comparison. He eyes Sidon’s cocks in awe, then finally manages to make himself stop staring. He considers them officially even for Sidon ogling his ass earlier. 

Blushing too hard to meet Sidon’s eyes, Link gestures towards him. Sidon hesitates, until Link reaches out and grabs Sidon’s wrist again. He can feel the muscles even there. Sidon’s so exceedingly _built_ , so horrendously _handsome_. It’s distracting. It makes him wonder how Sidon could ever think _him_ beautiful. It magnifies the compliments tenfold.

It gives him an uncomfortable problem to deal with, but he ignores his own stiffness as he pulls Sidon back to him. He settles down against Sidon’s front again, flattening them together and trying to ignore the way Sidon’s cocks thrum against the backs of his thighs. They could so easily thrust between his legs, flush against his own cock, and Sidon could simply roll them around and fuck Link down into the ground. He imagines the inevitable bruises would be worth it. He wonders if Sidon, so _huge_ , would come enough to add an extra layer against the cold. Then he feels abruptly ridiculous and tries to wipe such vulgarities from his mind. 

He focuses instead on how strangely safe he feels cradled in Sidon’s arms. He wonders where Sidon’s pulse is and how to find it. He thinks exclusively about _Sidon_ , and soon, he’s drifting off in dreams.


	2. An Afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Incorrect spoiler alert: there are no Barbarian shorts on Eventide Island.

As the dream fades away, Link rolls over, trying to nuzzle into a warmth that isn’t there. He blinks his eyes open, hand searching. There’s nothing between him and the rock wall. He feels a strange pang in his chest, remembering intrinsically just what he fell asleep too. He wasn’t prepared to be alone again so soon.

He rises stiffly to sit. The makeshift cot of leaves wasn’t quite enough to protect him from the jagged ground, though he feels like he’s had worse. He thinks his life was hard before this, and it feels like it should be hard now, _would_ be hard, if it weren’t for Sidon. Except Sidon’s left him already...

“Link!”

Turning sharply, Link peers through the bright sun. It’s brilliant out, in stark contrast to yesterday’s storm, and he has to hold his forearm over his eyes as he climbs out of the cave. A familiar voice booms, “Link!” and Link peers up the hill to where Sidon’s jovially waving at him. Sidon runs down through the grass onto the stones, his other arm cradling a hydromelon against his chest. When he gets to the valley at the bottom, he stops suddenly, and Link watches the surprise dance over his face.

Link comes down to meet him. Staring directly into Link’s eyes, Sidon murmurs, “It just... felt right to say. It’s your name... isn’t it?”

Link nods, and Sidon smiles down at him, sighing gratefully. Link’s just as pleased. He never likes talking unless he has to, and while his hands remember certain gestures, there’s little chance Sidon would understand it. They’ve done fine enough already. Sidon thrusts the hydromelon forward and announces, “Here! I was out gathering food for you. Maybe when you’re done it, we can use the shell to...” But he trails off, only to blush thickly and mutter, “No, no, that won’t work, never mind...” Link tilts his head, and Sidon turns quickly away. He adds, “We really must find some clothes for you that _will_ work,” and then he’s running off towards the beach, calling, “I must eat, but I’ll catch some fish for you too!”

Link follows at a slower pace, weighing the heavy melon in his hands. It would be easy enough to start a fire, he thinks—there’s bound to be some sharp rocks lying about, and there’re plenty of trees to cut for wood. For now, he isn’t particularly starved. He feels like he’s used to living on slim rations from the wild. He wanders down onto the sand and takes a seat, letting it slick across his skin—maybe he’ll go for a dip and wash up after. It only takes a bit of searching about to find a pebble big enough to crack open the melon, and then he pries it apart himself. The juice inside is delicious.

Licking it out is a bit messy, and once, Sidon turns back to look at him. Sidon eyes his busy tongue, then hurriedly looks away again. Blushing, Link tries to be more dignified with how eats, which isn’t easy without utensils. He refrains from sucking his fingers clean. He enjoys watching Sidon swim about and is glad Sidon apparently doesn’t feel the need to find clothes—his chiseled body looks glorious in the early sun. 

He’s an excellent companion. He stops to talk often, unperturbed by Link’s silence, always optimistic, always mindful of Link. But Sidon’s almost _too_ good to look at, and in the absence of anything to hide Link’s obvious interest, he retreats from the beach, figuring he can at least tie a Korok leaf around his waist. Hopefully watching Sidon won’t make him poke right through it anyway.

* * *

By sheer accident—chasing another hydromelon that’s rolled into the pit—Link finds a chest mired in mud. Crouching down over the rim, he clutches the handle, sure that’s what he’s feeling, and tugs with all his might. He just doesn’t dare use his other hand as well—he needs to brace himself against the ground. Then he hears something coming up behind him and is abruptly reminded of the last time Sidon saw him on all fours with his legs tense and spread, and he quickly sits up again, trying to cover his rear in the grass.

Sure enough, Sidon emerges through the foliage, and Link points into the bog. The mud’s caked on up to his elbow. Sidon asks, “You found something?” and Link nods, reaching in again. 

Sidon settles down beside him and reaches in, brushing Link’s smaller hand aside in order to clasp the handle. He covers the entire thing, and with a great heave, pulls it free.

The corner of the treasure chest pokes out of the mud, and Link closes his hands uselessly over Sidon’s to help bring it up onto the grass. It sits between them, large and heavily stained. But the lid opens easily enough, and the inside is untouched.

Link pulls out a pair of tiny brown shorts, a complicated belt full of extra flaps of fabric, two long, furred, toeless boots, and a loose buckle. The style is vaguely... barbaric. Hardly something Link would normally be given to wear. But out here, it hardly matters, and it’s better than nothing. At least it’ll finally afford him some protection. He springs to his feet to tug on the shorts, finding them absurdly _short_ , especially next to the long coverage of the boots. Those he pulls on afterwards, and the lone buckle he wraps around his thigh, figuring he can stick any weapons he finds in there. The final belt with the almost-skirt around it looks too heavy to bother with, so Link leaves it in the chest. 

Finished, he turns to Sidon, who’s looking deliberately away. Link takes a step forward to touch his shoulder—even with Sidon sitting and Link standing, they’re almost at the same height. Sidon looks around, eyes catching on the shorts, and his cheeks stain darker still. He finally gives the verdict, coughing, “They’re very... short.”

Link knows he’s blushing too. He tries to shrug nonchalantly, and Sidon puts a hand over his mouth and looks away again.

He mutters, perhaps to himself, though Link still hears it, “It would be easier if you weren’t so incredibly gorgeous...”

Link contemplates returning the compliment. But he can’t bring himself to form the words. Sidon sighs, “Perhaps we should find different places to sleep...” And Link forces himself to nod.

* * *

They spend most of the day together anyway. They gather supplies together, and Link climbs to the highest point, comforted to know that if he should fall, Sidon will be there to catch him. He doesn’t. He makes it to the very top, squints through the dying even light, and thinks he can see land in the distance. It’s just a spec. It could be eons away. It could be nothing. He could never swim that far anyway, and he descends with what he considers bad news. Sidon encourages only him, praising him for climbing so high, and Link shyly takes it. He’s sure he’s never felt so valued.

* * *

When night falls, Sidon’s true to his words, wandering back towards the water, while Link ducks into his cave. He’s gathered a thicker bed of leaves that he’d rather share. He lies down and tries to cuddle up in it, but it’s not like cuddling with a real _person_. He has the eerie sense that he’s slept alone most of his life, but meeting Sidon should change that. 

They’ve only just met. He reminds himself that staunchly, but it’s not enough to convince him of anything. He worries about Sidon too, out there in the open, alone if any monsters come by. The island might be devoid of them, but Sidon claims to have seen more in the water. He might be large, but he’s surely still mortal. For a long while, Link squirms in place, trying to get comfortable both mentally and physically and failing on both levels.

Finally, he gives up. He straightens and wanders out, letting the dull moonlight reflecting off the glistening water be his guide. He finds Sidon sprawled out on the shore, the water licking all around his long body. He lifts his head as Link approaches, and he murmurs, “Good. You’re still safe.” Link’s glad to know he’s not the only one prone to worrying. 

He settles down next to Sidon despite the cool water lapping at his knees and soaking through his boots. He has half a mind to fall asleep on Sidon’s chest right here; Sidon could keep him out of the water and would surely be softer than the ground. But as soon as he reaches Sidon, his arm brushing Sidon’s middle, he’s thrown into a daze.

He gets a flash of white and a memory of being just like this, leaning forward, closer, bending over Sidon, his hands sliding along Sidon’s broad shoulders, locking around Sidon’s neck, and Sidon reaches back to hold him, enveloping him completely.

Then they roll, the two of them jerking sideways to go tumbling down a grassy hill. The wind fills Link’s ears, Sidon cradling his fall, their gentle descent sparking laughter in his throat. He never gets to just _play like this_. He’s too old for it but doesn’t care; his life’s still too _hard_ for how young he is. Sidon still has joy in him. Sidon inspires joy in Link. Sidon will happily explore the ends of his kingdom with Link, beyond if he could, and he rises from the safety of the water to pour down the hill with Link, until they roll to a halt in the valley below. They’ve barely stopped when Sidon’s surging down, flattening into Link, the warm earth below him and the heady weight of Sidon atop him, and Sidon’s slamming their mouths together—Link opens his mouth to _moan_ , and Sidon’s tongue fills him completely—Link clings desperately to Sidon’s handsome body and wants to crush them together and meld right into one—

Sunk into the night-black sand, Link jerks away. Sidon looks up at him, golden eyes brighter in the starlight, wide and full of new sight. The memory seeps out of Link to leave him flushed and reeling, breathing hard—he knew Sidon then, he’s sure of it. 

He looks at Sidon’s familiar face and the subtle slope of his lips, as cream-coloured as the rest of his underbelly, hiding pointed teeth that should put Link off but _don’t_. When Link parts his lips, he can feel the memory of Sidon’s tongue inside him. He knows just the way it feels, the texture, the girth, the probing eagerness. He remembers the way Sidon’s fingers feel in his hair. 

He bends down, hovering just over Sidon’s mouth, sure this is _right_ even though he can’t explain it. Sidon’s palm lifts to press into his cheek, and he’s guided lower, until their lips are brushing. It’s more than silk-soft. It sends a jolt of lightning down Link’s spine. He presses down harder, hand darting for Sidon’s face, holding Sidon against him, and kisses Sidon for all he’s worth. 

This whole thing hasn’t been as terrifying or horrible as it should have been, waking up naked and new with nothing to his name, mostly because of Sidon’s presence. But whatever troubles he had left melt away with the searing kiss. He parts his lips to let in Sidon’s tongue, and with a low groan, Sidon fills him. It’s everything he remembers. _Better_. He’d return the favour if Sidon’s teeth were duller, but he’ll happily take this. Sidon is careful not to nip him. Sidon is an amazing kisser. Sidon parts them first, breathing in awe, “ _Link_...”

* * *

Link tugs Sidon by the hand back up the hill. He knows he can’t sleep in the water like Sidon can, and he wants the relative protection of the cave wall while they do this. He has a feeling neither of them will be on their toes enough to fight off any monsters for a while. 

As soon as they’re inside again, Sidon’s thick arm is around his waist, spinning him around, and Sidon’s looming over him to shove their mouths back together. Bent nearly in two to make the angle work, Link holds on for dear life. He digs his dull nails into every surface that he can, scrabbling for purchase, and lets Sidon kiss him breathless. Sidon’s love is enchanting. _Love_ is definitely the right word.

Sidon is brutal but caring. There’s a force in him he can barely seem to control like this, but as his mouth lowers along Link’s jaw and chin, he never bites Link hard enough to pierce, just grazes and mouths. Link moans, tossing his head back and rutting forward. He knows he isn’t normally like this. He isn’t so wanton. He doesn’t go around using his body to _beg_ to be touched, but with Sidon...

Sidon slides both hands into Link’s shorts. Link’s sure the fabric’s going to break, straining tight around him, while Sidon cups both cheeks of his ass and squeezes. The growl that ghosts across his throat is nothing short of feral. Sidon licks lower, until his tongue is flattening across Link’s left nipple. It circles around it, coaxing him to hardness, before swiping over to the next one. Sidon sucks him in, past warm lips but short of firm teeth, and licks him dry. 

By the time Sidon pushes Link towards the ground, Link’s a writhing mess. Sidon settles him down and rises to look, eyeing through dilated pupils the flushed arch of Link’s chest. His body’s wracked with his panting, rising and falling hard. Sidon eyes his breast like a delectable meal, and Link thinks he should be afraid.

He’s not. Zoras love _rough_. He remembers that. Remembers the name. Remembers stinging bruises in his skin from being held and sucked and fucked hard. Sidon dives in again to invade his mouth. 

Sidon’s entire body pins Link’s down while Sidon’s searching hands push at his shorts, rolling them down Link’s thighs enough to free his cock. It leaps out against Sidon’s stomach, flattened down a second later, and now that he knows what to look for, he can feel Sidon stirring against him. Soon he has two mammoth shafts pressing into him, sandwiching his own cock. Link reaches around to paw at Sidon’s back, wishing he could reach Sidon’s ass. Sidon wraps his arms around Link’s middle to keep him arced, keep them flush together. Link can’t get enough friction, just grinds helpless into the toned chest above him. Even without Sidon’s body as hot as his, his own skin’s burning. The cave’s broiling. He can smell the ocean on Sidon’s skin. Their wet squelching and slapping noises fill the air and bounce off the walls. 

Link would make this last forever if he could, guttural and messy though it is, but the feeling of Sidon’s twin cocks around him is too much. Sidon’s constant slew of kisses is too much. He can barely breathe. _Sidon is too much_. Far too early, Link comes with a muffled cry, bursting suddenly and spilling along both their stomachs. Sidon only grinds into him harder for it, and before Link’s finished coming down, Sidon’s following, spraying a slick, sticky liquid all around him. Link can feel it gluing their chests together.

Link revels in the feeling. He enjoys it painting him, pooling out, shooting right up to his chin, more than he could ever come, until Sidon’s hips slowly putter out, and his giant tongue recedes. Link’s left to gasp for air, still clinging desperately to Sidon’s back. Sidon presses his crest against Link’s forehead and works just as hard to breathe.

Then he mutters a quick, “Sorry,” and slips off to the side. His seed drapes between them, and Link moans at the sudden rush of cold air. He rolls into Sidon right after. His shorts restrict his movement, but it still takes him a moment to reach down and pull them up again. He knows he’s staining them but can’t care at the moment. He’ll wash them tomorrow. He’ll wash himself off tomorrow. 

As he turns his face, cushioned on a folded Korok leaf, some of Sidon’s seed dribbles down his chin and over his lip. Link licks it away on instinct, then shoots a surprised look down at the rest of the mess between them.

Sidon starts, “Link, I’m sorry, I—” But Link isn’t at all upset about it.

He scoops some of the splatter on Sidon’s chest onto his fingers and laps it eagerly away—it tastes as good as the first sample did. It tastes _delicious_. It sort of reminds him of a tropical fruit, creamy and sweet, perhaps a little salty. Or maybe that’s his own mess stirred into it. He doesn’t realize until he’s sucked his fingers clean just what he’s done, and then he blushes bright enough to match Sidon’s. 

He could survive on this alone, he thinks. And it wouldn’t be any hardship. But of course he isn’t going to say that, and he resists ducking down to lick Sidon clean. 

Instead, he curls into Sidon’s chest to hide his blush. Sidon throws an arm across him and curls close. They share no more words, just snuggle together, but it’s more than enough. 

Link wonders if perhaps he achieved something wonderful in his former life, and this blessing is his reward.


	3. Nightfall

In the dead of night, he creeps between the columns. The calm waters are alight with the stars and the blue glow of gems and shells, but Link avoids those dazzling reflections, instead slinking behind the nearest fountain and down a sloping path. He ducks past a white veil, into a small, circular room—one of the few private chambers in the domain. Its occupant is far too desired to sleep in the public pools; the other residents would scramble over each other for a position next to him.

Sidon sleeps, alone, embedded in the water, only his red crest and closed eyes visible, the long tail behind his head draped back along the tile. Link slips soundlessly inside, careful to cause as few ripples as possible. Then he wades forward, enough to brush his lips along Sidon’s cheek. His clothes cling to him, the ends of his bangs and ponytail slicking down across his skin. His searching hands find Sidon’s broad chest beneath the surface, and Link gently massages familiar muscles as he trails his lips along Sidon’s handsome face. 

Sidon’s eyes creak open, and Link watches pleasure flash through them. Sidon’s mouth twists into a sly grin, but before he can emerge to use it, Link hears splashing outside.

He ducks hurriedly below the water, prepared to hold his breath for as long as necessary no matter the pain. Sidon’s instantly moved in front of him, trying to hide his far smaller form. Another voice intrudes on the private scene, but it’s too muffled through the water and time to make out the words.

When Link breeches the surface again, his gasping breath comes out a yawn, and he blinks against the darkness, that pale blue glow completely gone. 

Sidon still sleeps beside him, curled up on dry land, but just as peaceful. 

Link burrows closer to him, tucks under his chin, breathes in his wild scent, and is glad no one can interrupt them here.

* * *

They climb to the highest point of the island together, when the sun is high and the weather’s clear. It’s harder for Sidon, whose claws aren’t built for the jagged surface of rocks, but Link moves beside him and shows him the right places to hold. They work around the back of the cliff so if they do fall, it’ll only be into the water. Link reaches the top first, and he bends back over it to help pull Sidon up.

When Sidon’s safely on the grassy dais, he plops down to exhale, and then he coos, “That was truly _spectacular_ , Link! You navigate such stark places with incredible ease! I do not think I could’ve made it without you...”

He likely could have, but Link allows a sheepish smile for the new slew of compliments. Sidon always gives him too much credit. Link waits until Sidon has caught his breath, and then Link extends a hand and helps him back up again. On his feet, he towers over Link, but he isn’t in the least bit menacing. He shines in the early sun like some ethereal deity, too pure for Link’s kind, but too grounded for the sky. They walk towards the edge together, Link’s fingers still wrapped around Sidon’s palm.

He points into the distance, to the small speck of what he hopes is land. Sidon leans forward and shadows his eyes with his free hand, squinting against the glare. “Ah... there is the mainland then, I presume...” Sidon murmurs to himself, only to straighten again, then to turn and wander back to the center of the platform. Link follows; eyeing the horizon does him little good. He could never reach that far. 

He remembers bits of Sidon now. He remembers bits of himself, or at least, of his own feelings. But he has no recollection of this place at all, not a single thing about it, not even a single thing _on it_. He’s sure the food he usually ate, though he thinks he did forage, was different. He thinks he wore different clothes. He didn’t used to rely so much on fish and crabs. 

But he does now. And it’s sparse but worth it, because he does think that wherever he used to live, it wasn’t in the same place as Sidon.

* * *

For a long time, they stay at their highest point, just eyeing the view and quietly enjoying each other’s company. Or at least, that’s what Link’s doing. When his stomach finally protests and he knows he has to descend for _something_ , he climbs up to his feet. He paces towards the edge again, now shivering with the evening wind—his shorts aren’t enough. The boots only protect him from the knee down, and his thighs are completely exposed. His chest isn’t mean to be bared, he thinks, not like Sidon’s. He waits at the brink for Sidon to follow.

Instead of beside him, Sidon comes up behind him. Sidon’s thick arms wrap around him, Sidon having to bend to fit, and Link’s grateful for it. Sidon’s long body easily blocks the wind, and his flesh, though never quite internally _warm_ , is always welcome. Link leans back into the tight embrace.

In only a minute or two, he feels an indent growing against his rear, and Sidon murmurs huskily into his ear, “I’m sorry... you just... always seem to do that to me...” Sidon squeezes Link tighter, takes a deep breath, and adds, “I think you always have.”

Link’s stomach rumbles again. Starving, he gently detangles himself from Sidon’s grip. But he uses the freedom only to turn himself, so he can look up at Sidon’s face and drop his hands to the open slit in Sidon’s body. 

He wraps his fingers around each growing shaft. Ducking his head, Link nuzzles into the taut stomach just above them. He doesn’t even need to kneel; when they’re fully erect and upright, the twin cocks already nudge his chin. 

He swipes his tongue over one, then the other, and shivers anew at the pleasant taste; it’s strange, something acquired, but he knows he acquired it long ago. He locks his lips around the nearest tip and gives it a little suck, moaning happily at the rush of precum that fills his mouth. He thinks he’d rather fill himself up with this than the hydromelons at the base of the hill. 

Link opens his mouth wider, trying to take more, but no amount of stretching can force his jaw wide enough to take it all. He slides down as far as he can, flattening his tongue along the bottom of his mouth, and uses his hands to try and stuff more in. But he only manages to sink halfway at most, and then he has to stop, the bulbous shaft pushing him to his limits and the head wedged against the back of his throat. Sidon moans above him and rakes a large hand through his hair. The other cups Link’s cheek, thumbing the indent of the engorged cock inside him. Link mewls and tries to suck it.

With one hand pumping the free cock and the other holding the base of the one in his mouth, Link slides off and pushes back on as hard as he can manage without choking himself. He makes a gagging noise the first few times but manages to conquer his reflex, and soon he’s in a practiced rhythm, letting instinct and sheer _want_ take over; he wants Sidon inside him like nothing else. His own cock is already hard but trapped inside his shorts, and he keeps clenching his asshole at the thought of getting one of these inside his channel. He’s sure he couldn’t take it. They’re just too _massive_ , but he _wants_ them. He’s grateful he can taste as much as he can. He sucks for all he’s worth, hollowing out his cheeks and stuffing them full again, while the tip batters his throat and pours a copious amount of precum into him. Sidon makes the most delicious noises above him, both hands fisting in his hair, but Sidon’s a kind lover and doesn’t buck forward. His hips quiver, but he doesn’t force feed Link any more. Link entertains a brief fantasy of what a truly _ravenous_ Sidon would be like, but then, he’s not sure he could survive being ravaged by a Zora. 

He at least wants to suck that Zora off as best he can. His knees grow weak from the rush of it, but it’s too late to change position—he can’t seem to stop Sidon’s cock pounding into him. He’s lost in the movements, popping off and shoving on, taking Sidon as far down as he can and sucking for all he’s worth. The other cock slaps his face and shoulder as he works, spraying his chest and back with white flecks, but he’ll have to lick that off later—he’s busy with the drink he’s already getting. He humps the air, near the edge himself, and then Sidon twitches and gasps, “ _Link_ —!” 

The warning comes a fraction too late; Link’s already fully impaled again. Sidon bursts inside him, and Link’s cry is entirely muffled by his mouthful of cock. The jet of seed roars down his throat at the same time the second splatters his face—he shuts his eyes just in time and can feel it dripping down from his hair to his lids. He swallows instantly, but it isn’t enough; a new load bubbles up as fast as the last, and Link almost chokes in the rush to swallow it all before it overflows and dribbles down his chin. Then Sidon wrenches out of him, and the last drops paint his face again—he’s left gasping and coughing and has to quickly dart a hand over his mouth to keep from choking it out. 

He falls to his knees, struggling for air. As soon as his lungs can work again, he starts rubbing it off his face and licking the remnants out of his mouth. It tastes as delicious as it did the last time, only made better when he comes himself, spilling suddenly inside his shorts just from humping the ground once. It blanks out his brain, leaving him weak and dizzy after. His body feels on fire. 

Sidon plops down next to him, looking just as gloriously wrecked and flecked in his own seed. He murmurs a worried, “Link...” while Link leans forward to lick a stray glob off his pec. 

Pale cheeks turning as red as the rest of him, Sidon adds in awe, “You’re _amazing_...” Then he gulps and suddenly buckles forward, scooping Link up in a colossal hug. Crushing an already reeling Link against his chest, Sidon groans, “I’m so grateful to be here with you!”

The word ‘grateful’ triggers something else in Link’s memory. He remembers Sidon saying that once before, in a different time and place, over an entirely different feat. He rushed to Sidon when Sidon called for him, and he did... something... and _all the Zoras_ were grateful...

Sidon had said his father was pleased. _Very_ pleased. And had a special honoured planned, though Link can’t for the life of him remember what it was.

* * *

They sit outside their cave at night, huddled around a campfire, Link’s stomach pleasantly full and his body still too satiated to be bothered by the cold. He leans against Sidon’s sturdy form while Sidon stares into the flames. 

After a long while of soothing silence, Sidon mutters, “I was a prince.”

Link shifts, head tilting up, but Sidon’s gaze is still far away. 

“I had a father and a sister,” he muses, “both of which I loved dearly. But... I cannot remember their faces.” Then he pauses, and he looks down at Link, intense confusion twisted across his attractive features. He asks so quietly that it makes Link’s heart clench, “Link, _why am I here_?”

Link doesn’t know. He wishes he could answer, if only for Sidon’s sake. He doesn’t care anymore for himself; it doesn’t matter; his life is good here. _He has Sidon_. He remembers a symbol, a blue one, glowing around the edges: an eye with pointed lashes and a tear. 

Ancient technology, he thinks, is what got them here. It’s what took their memories. It’s possibly still at work, though he can’t imagine _why_. He doesn’t understand why such a weapon would be used against them. Though he covets what they have here, the thought of losing a lifetime of memories of being with _Sidon_ is upsetting. He was a good knight once, he’s sure of it. He served his kingdom well. He knows Sidon must’ve been a valiant prince. They didn’t deserve to forget the joy they must’ve had.

But he doesn’t want to dump that pain on Sidon, so he only seeks out Sidon’s hand. He brings it to his lips and kisses Sidon’s knuckles. It makes Sidon chuckle, first forlornly and then just warmly, “At least I’m not alone.”

He kisses Link’s forehead, and Link settles against him to sleep.


	4. At Midnight

A little ways out from the shore, Link splays his hands along Sidon’s broad back. He can’t help a subtle shiver at the action, how _smooth_ it is, how soft, though there’s a hardness to the muscles underneath. Sidon’s skin is hot at the surface, washed a brighter shade in the blazing sun. Sucking in a little breath, Link jumps up and tosses his legs around Sidon’s middle. It caries him right out of the water, until Sidon lowers down, soaking Link’s legs up to the knees. Balanced on the small of Sidon’s back, Link steadies himself.

The tail that forms behind Sidon’s head curls down along Link’s crotch and hangs over his thigh. Link has to spread wide to fit. He tries not to think about it, about how _powerful_ Sidon feels beneath him, and instead looks up to focus on the horizon. From here, he can’t see a thing. It would be easier if he didn’t have to squint, but raising a hand to shield his eyes would mean letting go of Sidon, and he thinks he’ll fall off if he does that.

Sidon asks, “Ready?” but knows better than to wait for Link’s answer. Face at water level and crest just above it, Sidon wades forward. He goes slowly at first, careful not to jar Link, but his pace quickly increases, until he’s plowing through the water at top speed. White foam splashes up on either of Link’s sides, drenching the rest of his legs and his stomach, licking all the way up to his shoulders. The wind whips against him to counteract the sun. His fingers dig into Sidon’s flesh; the ride is _exhilarating_.

Sidon swerves them around the island, dodging between rocks and parting schools of too-slow fish. The first lap takes them very little time at all, and Link doesn’t know whether to be depressed about the smallness of their island or pleased at the quickness of Sidon’s skill. As they near the corner of the beach they first started on, Sidon slows.

When he comes to a stop, he rises up, and Link has to quickly clutch around his neck to hold on. Sidon chuckles lightly, reaching his full height, and Link begrudgingly lets go, dropping down into the ocean with a splash. The sand isn’t far underfoot, but enough that he kicks off to paddle in place. It puts him and Sidon on more even ground, though Sidon’s _always_ taller than him.

Sidon looks down at Link, shallowly swimming in place, and says, “We’re lucky; you weigh almost nothing! I could easily carry you to shore. ...If there were no other issues before us.” Sidon’s expression falters a little, but Link can see him putting in great effort to remain optimistic. “Unfortunately, it’s too far for even me to go in one stretch, and I could not rest well enough to resume the journey in a horizontal position in the water, nor could I be trusted during sleep to keep you up! And then there is food and fresh water, if you cannot live on raw fish as I do, and if I am carrying you, there is little room for anything else. I would also be unable to dive and fish properly if you were on me... you could hold on, I suppose, but a feeding Zora can be somewhat frenzied, and I wouldn’t wish to harm you accidentally... and then there is the matter of predators—if one of us is to sleep, the other must be able to keep watch...”

He trails off, looking very much as though he’s giving the matter a great deal of thought, although the only thing Link can take from the speech is that Sidon would probably be better off alone. If he’d stayed on his own island, the one he’d first woken up on, perhaps he could’ve reached shore without worrying for Link’s safety. But then, he wouldn’t have had anyone to keep watch while he slept, so it wasn’t entirely in vain. Looking back towards the shore, Link wonders if he could make a raft for himself.

It would be hard work. But that’s nothing new. And he has a strong ally to carry the heavier logs. He reaches below the water to find Sidon’s hand, intending to tug Sidon back up to the beach. 

But as he looks along their island, he can’t help but wonder... does he really want to leave?

He does want to explore again. He wants wide-open spaces, towering mountains, rolling hills, snow-covered peaks, exotic deserts...

But he also wants a place where he and Sidon can just be together, with no one else around to stop them.

* * *

He hates cutting down the trees. But it’s a necessity, and when a long trunk has fallen to the sand, Link kneels in front of it to start hacking off the branches. He uses the sharpest rocks he could find, though they’re uncomfortable to grip. He chips away at it despite the rumbling of his stomach—he’ll have to stop soon.

He wonders what Sidon used to eat. A prince would probably have far better accommodations that what this backwater island can provide. Sidon must’ve had some sort of palace, and perhaps a crown, or armour, gems— _something_ —and a family. That’s why Link smoothes the log as best he can. He’ll need a sturdy raft he can rely on to keep watch when Sidon sleeps. He needs to make sure that Sidon makes it home to see his father and sister again. Hopefully, he’ll still remember Link when he’s reunited with them. 

Link has to pause halfway to his finish, just to rest his tired bones. He drops his rock and slumps, panting, and turns his face away from the burning sun. He’s worked himself into a sweat, and his shorts are sticking to him. He had to take the boots off. He thinks he’d better take a dip, but when he looks towards the water, Sidon’s just emerging from it. 

So Link sits and watches, enthralled, as Sidon’s chiseled body rises into view, even more radiant for the little droplets that cling to all his muscles. Each line is highlighted in the watery reflections of the sun; Sidon shines and shimmers. Sidon strolls towards Link, hips swaying, and Link can feel his hunger twist and grow into something else entirely. 

Sidon comes to sink down beside him, to reach out to brush some of the sweat-slicked bangs off his forehead, and to sheepishly ask, “I don’t suppose you’re hungry, are you?” Link grins at the unspoken implication. He takes hold of one of the fins that frame Sidon’s handsome face, and he tugs Sidon down to kiss him.

* * *

The raft takes many days, but they have that to spare. They collect a store of supplies—food, clear water from the spring by the cave in emptied hydromelons, and a few rudimentary weapons. Link sharpens a spear at night by the fire, while Sidon examines the landlocked raft and coos, “Such amazing craftsmanship... but I should’ve known you’d be a brilliant builder!”

While Sidon’s back is turned, Link smiles. He strives to be as humble as Sidon is, though Sidon makes it difficult. He wonders vaguely if Sidon was always like that—bristling with praise and unaware of his own splendor. Hopefully, his own family tell him often.

Perhaps all his people tell him often. If he’s still a prince of a thriving realm, he must be a beloved one.

He finishes admiring Link’s work and wanders back towards the fire, settling in at Link’s side, right where he belongs. He runs his large fingers along the dull end of Link’s spear while Link works, and Link silently takes it as a sort of coronation: Sidon’s blessing is now imbued in his tools. 

Palm sliding subtly down onto Link’s thigh instead, Sidon murmurs, “Thank you, Link.” Link looks up, tilting his head curiously, and Sidon continues, “I know you think of staying. I see it in your eyes.” Link turns away again to hide his flush; he didn’t know he was that obvious. Sidon sighs, “But you follow me anyway, and I won’t argue with you over it, because I think you are a hero too valiant to trap like this. You deserve more of the world, Link. As much of it as you’d like.”

Blushing all the harder, Link shrugs noncommittally. He hardly needs all the world or even any substantial piece. This island could’ve been big enough for both of them. 

They still have to go. Sidon gives his thigh a soft squeeze and promises, “We can do this, Link. I know we can.”

Someone else said that to him, once. Far away.

Long ago.

A lovely girl, young but dear to him, with golden hair and a sweet face. Link pushes at the memory, at the foggy image of her telling him _they’ll manage_ , and him wanting to believe it. He swore to protect her either way. He meant it.

But things changed, and he grew uncomfortable in the way she began to look at him. He still would’ve done almost anything for her. He just never had the words to explain the _almost_ part.

He closes his eyes and gets a flash of a portly older man with thick white hair and a billowing beard, and a look of such _anger_ that Link just... 

He turns to bury his face in Sidon’s chest. Sidon loops an arm around him, full of understanding, the only other person that _could_ understand. Link wonders what became of everyone else he used to know, but he’s so glad that he still has Sidon here, because he doesn’t think he could’ve dealt with that unknown. When the memories came back, and the fear, and the wonder...

Sidon wraps around him, and Link forgets all his worries for a little while.

* * *

The night before they’re ready to leave, it rains again. They store all their supplies in the back of the cave and cover the raft in the forest. Link lies on his bed of Korok leaves and stares out into the falling river, waiting for Sidon to come home. The weather distorts the starlight, but it’s enough to see by. Perhaps the grey clouds should be dreary, the roar of the rain discouraging, but Link still feels peaceful. He knows that Sidon’s coming for him, and sure enough, a large red figure emerges through the fog. Sidon becomes clearer the closer he comes, his glimmering surface made to glow where the rain bounces off him. When he ducks into the cave, Link smiles.

Link rolls lazily onto his back, having known this would come. His hands withdraw from his shorts, dragging the juices of a hydromelon up his stomach. It was the least sticky of the fruits and the one he thought would work best. He knows it’ll still be a challenge.

But he also remembers experiencing it many times. He knows he can fit Sidon inside him, because his mind is full of dozens of only half-forgotten moments, spread out in the grass or tucked behind some rocks or deep within the domain, where Link took Sidon into his arms, and Sidon pushed into him. He remembers being crushed, overwhelmed, but it getting better, easier. He remembers Sidon opening him with fingers and tongue. And he remembers being _full_ in a way his own hand could never mimic. His body misses it. Catching Sidon’s eye, Link lifts his legs to push down his shorts, sliding them slowly past his hips, over his thighs, and off completely. He leaves them where they fall and spreads out again, completely bare like Sidon is, and hopes Sidon gets his meaning.

Sidon stands above him, tall and beautiful, breathing hard. His golden eyes roam down Link’s body, eyeing every little nook and cranny that he’s already seen a hundred times. There’s always the same _awe_ in them. Link watches Sidon’s pupils blow wide and his crotch stir to life. It’s a fascinating process, the way a slit ripples into place, parting enough for two small shafts to extrude. They quickly grow from sizeable to huge, and Link subconsciously runs one hand back down his body—perhaps it wasn’t enough. 

Bypassing his own hard cock and taut sac, he tugs at his opened hole. He sucks in a breath and tries to relax, to flex himself open again, but Sidon’s just so very _large_ that it doesn’t look like any amount of preparation could be enough. Except that he _knows_ it is. They waited too long last time, he thinks. They had to go slowly, carefully, but eventually, they gave in—they longed too much. Now they have nothing but each other, and it seems a waste to stay apart. 

Link bends his legs at the knees, straining to give Sidon the best view, and finally, Sidon buckles.

Sidon’s knees hit the ground, and he darts forward, right between Link’s legs. Link startles, bending back, and Sidon does the rest for him, grabbing the backs of his thighs and pushing them forward—Link whines as his knees hit his chest, his feet now in the air. Sidon stares down at him with a look of ravenous hunger. Link can feel his hole nervously clenching, dribbling clear juices down his rear. 

“Do you really want to...?” Sidon asks, voice a dual clamour of excitement and reverence. Link nods vigorously, despite Sidon warning, “My people... I am sure we make love quite... roughly...” Link only squirms both arms beneath his legs to clutch his cheeks and spread them wider. He’s positive that Sidon would never hurt him.

He can’t go another night without taking _more_ , especially with the future so uncertain. They won’t be able to do this tomorrow night, out at sea, and neither remembers what the mainland brings. If they’re going to leave their sanctuary, Link at least has to have this memory. He wonders if Sidon remembers fucking him too.

Sidon bends over Link to brush their lips together, and Link lets the kiss linger but keeps it chaste, only because he doesn’t want to be overrun too soon. Sidon’s love is always a danger to that. Sidon grinds his body down to drag both cocks between Link’s legs, sandwiching his smaller one, and spends a few moments rutting them together and stifling a growing moan. Link holds himself back, not wanting to burst from anticipation alone. It’s entirely possible under the pressure of Sidon’s strong body. Sidon pants into his ear, “Link...”

Link forgets holding himself open. He transfers his hands to Sidon’s body instead, clutching Sidon’s hips, then runs up to grab Sidon’s back; Sidon has to bend to flatten over him, but it works—they always find a way to. Sidon buries his face in Link’s shoulder, mouth opening wide around Link’s neck, and his hands busy themselves between their bodies, positioning one cock against Link’s hole. Link can feel the spongy tip press against his rim. It only rubs at first, gently circling the puckered ring of muscle, but Link grits his teeth and opens as wide as he can. He tries to be inviting. Seductive. He pulls Sidon down against him and keens. 

Sidon gasps another, “ _Link_ —!” and pushes the head inside.

The first thrust is everything. Even just that first tiny bit, hardly any at all, stretches Link right open, and Link cries out for it, arching and lifting off the ground. His knees cling to Sidon’s sides, thighs tensing, but Sidon groans and massages his hips, bringing him back down. He tries to relax. He tries to breathe. Sidon’s _enormous._ He knew that already, but it’s not the same as feeling it. His channel fluctuates rapidly around Sidon’s cock, clenching and releasing, trying to make sense of the sudden change—he worked himself open on three fingers and his thumb for what felt like more than an hour, but it still wasn’t enough. Sidon moans languidly in his ear, and Link tries to breathe, nodding against Sidon’s crest.

Sidon understands him, like Sidon always has, and begins to push in again. It’s a steady, torturously slow pace, but it works, feeding Link a little more at a time, as much as he can manage. He can feel the sweat starting to bead on his skin. Sidon’s body isn’t burning, but his own is. The stretch inside him is _exquisite_...

And Sidon just keeps going. He pauses when he has to, letting Link adjust, but then Link will whine and rut minutely against him, and he’ll move again. The second cock slides along Link’s stomach, nudging Link’s own shaft aside, covering it completely. Sidon stops burrowing into him in favour of licking his throat, kissing his jaw, and nipping at his ears. Sidon’s careful with his teeth, never piercing, never tearing, but lightly scraping, maybe bruising. Link half hopes he’ll have marks tomorrow. He wants bruises deep enough to still be there when they reach the farther shores. He wants to be able to touch them on their journey and have this all rush back to him. He wants to mark Sidon back, and he digs his own fingers into Sidon’s shoulders. Sidon only moans. Link thinks he’ll wind up rougher than Sidon will ever be with him; Sidon doesn’t seem to know what a true gentleman he is.

Sidon doesn’t seem to realize just how _wonderful_ it feels to be filled up with his cock. There are spots of pain, yes, but Link loses that in the swirl of everything else; Sidon’s perfect body, Sidon’s eager kisses, and all of Sidon’s love black out any trouble. Sidon rubs against his inner walls impossibly deep, sinker further and further, until they hit the point where he can’t seem to go in any more. Link can hardly believe he’s taken the entire thing all the way inside, but when Sidon starts grinding hard into him, there’s no more to come. Link clenches around it, half excepting it to bulge up against his stomach. He’s never been so _full_. He luxuriates in the intense feeling but has to stop when Sidon starts slipping out.

Link whines, only for Sidon to thrust in again, and Link’s whimper breaks off in a startled cry. Sidon slides right to the end, hitting home, and a bundle of nerves makes Link see white and scream. Sheer _pleasure_ ricochets beneath his skin, curling his toes and ringing in his ears. Then Sidon takes him again, and again, soon rutting into Link _hard_.

Sidon goes from tender to quick to frantic, and in no time at all, he’s pounding Link brutally into the ground—Link trembles for it, clinging tight to Sidon’s body but unable to do more than scream. He’ll definitely bruise; the leaves aren’t nearly enough to cushion him, but he doesn’t care: every thrust of Sidon’s massive cock sets off a stab of ecstasy. Sidon must feel it just as much; he moans into Link’s ear and clutches to Link’s hips and mouths all along Link’s face. Their slapping and grunting and fucking noises drown out the rain. The friction sears away the cold. Link clings to Sidon for dear life and takes everything he can.

He tries to kiss Sidon, pecking Sidon’s crest and forehead and anywhere he can reach while Sidon licks Link all over, until Sidon gets the message. Then he diverts his mouth to Link’s while his hips keep going. He thrusts his giant tongue into Link’s mouth and fills Link on both ends, fucking him to the same relentless rhythm. Link wouldn’t have it any other way. He ruts himself against Sidon’s other cock while the one inside him teases his hole and stuffs into his channel. He wouldn’t touch himself even if he had the wherewithal to coordinate it; this is more than enough, and he doesn’t want it to be even that, because he wants this to last forever, and he knows it can’t.

It’s too good. Too much. Too erotic and perfect, and their connection sizzles deeper than that touch and intensifies it tenfold. He thinks only of _Sidon_ while Sidon kisses him and makes love to him. He kisses Sidon back as best he can, bucks up as best he can, and crushes Sidon’s chest against his own until he can’t breathe anymore.

His brain short circuits at the same time that his balls clench, and Link roars around Sidon’s tongue, ramming right into the biggest orgasm he’s ever had. It rages into every bone in his body, takes over all his senses, numbs his mind and leaves him reeling. He spurts between them and clenches tight around Sidon’s cock, wanting to drag Sidon over the edge with him.

Sidon follows an instant later, roaring just as loud. He comes twice as hard. It sloshes up Link’s chest and bursts inside Link’s ass, ballooning into a channel already out of space. Link can feel it slicking back along Sidon’s cock and streaming out of him. He’s glad he took his shorts off. He’s glad he has Sidon. He can’t think straight and just revels in that dizzying feeling, while Sidon pounds his own seed into Link’s abused hole.

By the time Sidon slows to a stop, Link is barely conscious. His orgasm took everything out of him, and coming back is a gradual, blissful experience. He lies, completely spent, without care for how hard the ground is or how heavy Sidon’s body is. He’s covered in sweat and seed and Sidon’s saliva, but he has no desire to wash any of it off. Sidon finally lifts off him, looking down through the broken moonlight. His face is a wreck of exhaustion and _love_ , just like Link’s.

Link lifts a shaking hand to cup Sidon’s cheek. 

And another story comes rushing back to him, ripping home through his fallen shields. His mind’s too vulnerable to fight it, and he lifts his head to see the silver columns of Zora’s Domain passing him by.

He’s hauled before the king and half expects to be thrown to his knees. But the guards are still polite to him, still _want him_ —he can see it in their eyes—and their hate goes right over his head. They glare, instead, at the man behind him, and the girl at his side.

The young Zora woman that stands before her king is Link’s _friend_. He remembers her, that affection and that kinship, but she can’t meet his eyes. She looks down at the water, her soft face full of sorrow, and Link storms through guilt for having caused it. But he couldn’t have done anything else. He wants to explain himself and clenches his fists at his side. 

Instead, the king seethes over him. Not the Zora one. Another older man, round but not so much as his counterpart, this one _Hylian_. He’s _furious_. Link was afforded the highest honour in the land, and he squandered it.

Link was given another honour, one the Zora king passed down.

And both fathers roar that Link was to marry their daughters, for various deeds that have yet to come back to him, while both women look away with light blushes on their cheeks. He did like both of them.

He _loved_ neither, not in the way he’s told to, and Sidon stands beside him, wilted for it. Sidon is miserable. His father calls him a heathen and bellows at him for seducing away the champion, for betraying all his people and his own sister. The look on Sidon’s face is heartbreaking, but, for once, he’s as quiet as Link. The two kings drown each other out, until their daughters try to calm them down. Link’s only solace is that neither Mipha nor Zelda hate him. If anything, Zelda looks embarrassed, and Mipha like she wants to run to them and give Sidon a hug. _Link_ wants to give Sidon a hug. But being caught together was what got them here in the first place, and they both take their duty seriously. They both take their berating. These are wounds that even Mipha can’t heal. 

One of the older Zoras—a crooked little man with a long, flat head—whispers for execution. Link twitches, though he knows it won’t come to that. He expects banishment, maybe imprisonment, but neither king now wants either in their kingdom. And neither will simply send Link and Sidon away, knowing it won’t be much punishment at all—it would hurt to leave their lands, yes, to leave their positions, their duties, but if they have each other, they’ll survive. And both kings want them _punished_ , though Mipha’s nearly in tears to stop it, and finally, silence comes, and Zelda speaks.

She knows of a shrine. There are many in both lands, scattered far across the world, but most are sealed, and few would help them at all. She knows of one that will. She knows of an ancient place that heals but takes memories, and she thinks that both need healing. The kings hiss that their treachery and corruption can’t be purged, but Link knows that isn’t what Zelda means. Mipha asks where it is, and then if they can send Sidon elsewhere—he can’t survive on a plateau. He needs the water. 

Link _needs Sidon_ , but he holds his peace. Zelda says for him that there are many islands far off their coasts, too far for either to return. Too far for either to reach each other. But Zelda never knew Sidon like Link did. 

Neither of them fought. Link considered it. He took one last look at the prince he’d fallen for, but he saw the tears in Sidon’s eyes, and he knew Sidon would submit. He’d lied to his father once—he wouldn’t run off with Link and do it again. So Link let the guards take him, knowing that he’d faced impossible odds before, and he would again.

“And we found each other,” Sidon murmurs, curled at Link’s side in their little cave.

The rain’s stopped. The night’s still heavy, but Link can see enough and feel everything. He can smell Sidon beside him, taste Sidon on his tongue, and he listens to Sidon’s lilting voice. 

“I felt so wrong, taking you from her... I hated myself... but you didn’t love her, and she deserved someone who did.”

Link can only nod. He doesn’t bother to explain that he _did_ love her, in his own way, but he was never _in love_ with either her or Zelda. He would’ve given his life for either of them. But they both deserved more in a lover, and Link’s heart was taken. 

“I remember now,” Sidon whispers. “We were sentenced and stripped of our memories and affects, and we were banished to start anew.” His head lolls to the side, gaze catching Link’s, as he continues, “But I found you again. I felt you, even though I didn’t know what it was I was drawn to, and I followed my heart. And what we had just resurfaced and brought everything back.”

It does all come back. In drips and drabs, the pieces fit together, the puzzle completing, though the rest hardly seems to matter. Link doesn’t particularly care what other things he accomplished, what great deeds he achieved. All his best memories started after the first time he met Sidon on another rainy night, and they did more together than any shrine could stop.

It isn’t that simple, Link knows. They’ll still have issues. They’ll still have to be careful when they get back, though Link thinks he could see Zelda again, and she wouldn’t condemn him. He wants to tell Sidon the same of Mipha, but he thinks that Sidon knows. Sidon’s the optimist, and he dons a warm smile, even though he must have conjured all the problems Link has. 

He drapes his thick arm over Link’s waist, and Link curls into him. They cocoon around one another, closer than ever. The past is daunting, but in a strange way, Link’s grateful, because now he knows that nothing can ever keep him and Sidon apart.

* * *

The morning is bright and clear: a beautiful calm after the storm. The bathe together in the water and laugh over forgotten moments, recalling little details that blossom back into their lives like flowers. Sidon sighs by the end of it, “...And if they try to break us up again, we have our own little island to come back to.” Link nods, fully ready to build a hut here if he has to.

But he doesn’t think he does. He’d like to explore, and he thinks Sidon will come with him. They can go anywhere, do anything. In a way, they’re freer than ever, having shed heavy duties but knowing that their peoples are safe. Hopefully, their princesses are well. And if not, they can still render aid from afar. They’ll be more careful this time.

They’ll be closer too. They drag their supplies to Link’s raft, and Sidon pushes it from the shore, a handmade oar ready in Link’s hand. 

They set off for the horizon and into all blue skies.


End file.
